Fading
by NightmarePrince
Summary: She was an artist, Working scarlet works of art, Her paintbrush was her razor, Her Canvas was her Wrist (Warning Suicidal Themes)


Disclaimer: I do not own Big Time Rush, never have and sadly, Never Will

_She was an artist _

_Working scarlet works of art_

_Her paintbrush was her razor,_

_Her Canvas was her Wrist_

The soft white shift flowed loosely over her pale honey-coloured skin, ending in a lacy hemline halfway down her thighs. She did not bother locking the doors as she strode through the apartment; her parents were out dancing, her friends. . . she didn't really have any friends, not any more.

In the bathroom she sank to the floor and saw it, lying there discarded beneath the counter lay a tiny shard of metal.

She reached for it.

She took it.

She reclined against her bathtub, revelling in the frigidly cold floor tiles pressed against her bare skin, smiling sadly as she fingered the shiny steel blade in her hands. She hesitated for an hour, a minute, perhaps just a second before his words hardened her resolve.

_His weapon were his words_

_Sharper than her blades_

_They cut away her armour_

_Like supple flowing skin_

"I love you," he had said in a voice deep with affection. It was the words she had always wanted to hear him say. But not the way he had. Not when he was speaking to another woman. Not when he was speaking to her best friend.

The ice cold blade met her warm wrist in a cruel kiss, parting her skin like a lovers caress. The blood danced down her arm in slender rivulets and staining her pure white shift. Innocence despoiled.

She was ugly. Worthless. Nothing more than a mistake.

Had she not heard her mother once say how much easier life would have been had she aborted when she had the chance? Hadn't her father once told her in a drunken stupor that she had not been planned, that she amounted to nothing more than a drinking binge and a gas station condom?

Cut

Cut

Cut

The weeping rivulets were blending together into a single flowing stream now, smoothly running down her arm and pooling onto the creamy white tiles, soaking into her dress. She wasn't good enough for anything, was she?

She had been in Los Angeles for almost four years and what had she achieved in that time. A few minor roles in small time television series, a few advertisements, a guest appearance in a movie now and then, it wasn't much. Nobody knew her name. She was a failure, and she had been reminded of it time and time again.

First it had been the guys. She thought she had found true camaraderie with them and truthfully for a while she had enjoyed their quirky company. Good things never last though and when Big Time Rush's popularity hit its apex, they had forgotten all about the lonely girl struggling to make it as an actress. It wasn't their fault, she just wasn't good enough.

Her whirlwind romance with Logan had been one of the best times of her life, that feeling of being loved unconditionally. But now Logan was dating Lucy Stone, whose popularity had skyrocketed after her debut album had been released. Lucy had been her best friend, how could she? The answer was simple. They just didn't care. Nobody Cared.

Cut

Cut

Cut

She was sliding her blade across her other arm now, creating perfectly parallel lines of red across her paling flesh. Was it just her imagination, or did the light become unbearably bright all of a sudden. Why had he left her, he had said that he was scared, that he was too young to feel so strongly for one person. That we should find out what love is to make sure it was what we felt for each other, by seeing other people. He had just wanted a way out.

_Her friendship was deception_

_His love was a lie_

_Together they destroyed me_

_In my sweet serenity _

It hurt. But it was a good pain. She knew it would soon be all over.

James had put her back together once Logan left. He made her feel secure, and loved. She was vulnerable after being so shattered by the double betrayal, but she lost herself in James' eyes and soon, she lost more of herself to him. James was her first. She had dared to be happy, to hope she had finally found someone to love her while they had lain in a tangled heap on her bed. Then morning came and he left. Big Time Rush had broken up a few weeks later, and James had gone solo. Last Camille had heard, he was recording a duet with Arianna Grande.

Cut

Cut

Cut

Her arms had become a mutilated tapestry of beauty by now, a perverse artwork of dribbling blood and abstract red lines. Why was the blood coming so slow now? Maybe another source had to be found? She drew her blade across her thigh, hissing in its soft butterfly kiss.

The room began to spin around her.

Kendall had followed Jo to Australia and soon he like the blonde actress before him, had soon forgotten she existed. He had been like a brother to her, to lose him was to lose herself a little more. She had felt a piece of her die every day that he ignored her messages, her calls, her e-mails.

Carlos. Sweet Carlos was wrecking hotel rooms with Bieber in Miami according to Pop Tiger. He too hadn't forgotten her like the rest, what he had done was worse. She shivered at the memory, the bitter twisting in her gut reminiscent of the time she had turned the television on and seen them on an interview of Where are they Now.

"Not everyone makes it in Hollywood, Take this girl we knew, Camille Roberts, she's just not cut out for show-bizz," had said Carlos.

Cut

CUT

**CUT**

Black spots were beginning to appear before her eyes as she slumped dizzily onto her side. Her pulse was fading away when she heard her front door open. She smiled sadly as she noticed the blood was leaking out under the bathroom door. She heard someone's hurried steps so faintly, heard the door crash in with all the noise of a falling pin.

He rushed to her, shaking her, begging her to stay with him.

His phone was out as he dialled a number.

But her eyes had already closed.


End file.
